The words land softly, but they feel tectonic.
“Not covertly,” I add. “Not publicly. Not at all.”
Rethan’s gaze shifts between us.
“That is final?” he asks.
“Yes.”
Kael searches my face for a long moment, as if trying to memorize it in this exact configuration.
“You understand there will be no path back,” he says.
“There never was,” I answer.
The war room’s overhead lights flicker briefly as power reroutes from combat systems to long-range comm arrays. An independent system has requested mediation talks—neutral territory, exploratory only.
“They want you visible,” Rethan says.
“They want optics,” I reply.
Kael looks at me. “Will you stand beside me?”
“Yes.”
“In front of your former colleagues?”
“Yes.”
“In front of the clans who withdrew?”
“Yes.”
He nods once.
“Then draft your resignation,” he says quietly.
I move to the console again.
The League’s internal portal still recognizes my credentials—for now. I access the formal resignation protocol, the document that severs diplomatic clearance and revokes intelligence classification authority.
The template is sterile and impersonal.
I, Elara Vance, hereby relinquish all League diplomatic privileges and security clearances effective immediately.
My fingers hover over the authentication field.
“Once you send that,” Rethan says, “you are functionally stateless.”
“Not stateless,” I reply. “Aligned.”
I sign.
The system processes for three long seconds.
Then it accepts.
Clearance revoked.
